Good Luck With That

I finished the embroidery elements on the first applique border today. All that means is that I will begin my husband's new trousers tomorrow. I have made this pattern before and I remember that it had overly complicated instructions for sewing and completing so I am not looking forward to the next three days. The saving grace is that my husband has always said that the first pair of trousers from this pattern are his favorite. Of course he picked the fabric and I did the appropriate tailoring, checking the rise, etc., so these are the epitome of hand-tailored.

On the same topic of my husband (47 years and counting), the other day he got an email from the fellow who is and has been the Harvard tennis coach for several decades. We both knew this guy when he was still an undergraduate at Harvard and a member of the team that had elected my husband to be the captain, a position he held his senior year at the college.  A tennis event was planned for former Harvard varsity players in NYC where they would play at the Arthur Ashe tennis center (Forest Hills). Anyway, my husband got the email and was reading it while I was making lunch. He looked at me and briefly explained the email at which point I told him, "You should go." He got very excited but then looked crestfallen because as he explained "I haven't played in ten years. My racket needs new strings. Blah, blah."

Of course I told him that none of that mattered. He could stay at the Harvard Club, ride the subway, probably see folks he hadn't seen in 45 years, and have a good time. He has been in a state of enchantment ever since. He ordered a tennis racket online that arrived today, he bought new tennis shorts, and wristbands. He is practically quivering with excitement. I used to be a swimming coach not a tennis coach but I told him in the brief time he has to prepare that he should run some, hit against a wall. His new racket arrived today and he has been swishing it around ever since.

I even made the supreme sacrifice--I told him I would run with him after dinner. I was a swimmer. I was never a runner. We live at about 4200 feet above sea level and it's all uphill from our house. So we don't run  far and we certainly don't run fast but we have been running. So dear readers, I will either die with the effort or become a stronger person. What I do know for sure is that my 68 year old husband is acting like a teenager. That has to be a good thing.

I did also tell him that there is no doubt that a substantial donation would be expected. He is way less enthusiastic about that but I will give him a check before he leaves.